ton.

"Well, old fellow, had a pleasant afternoon?"

"Glorious!" answered Charlie in a husky voice.

"Are we to congratulate you?"

"I--I--well, it's not _absolutely_ settled yet, Deane, but--soon, I
hope."

"That's right. Miss Bussey told me the whole story, and I think you're
precious lucky to get such a girl."

"Yes, aren't I?"

"You don't look over and above radiant."

"Do you want me to go grinning about the hotel like an infernal hyena?"

"I think a chastened joy would be appropriate."

"Don't be an ass, Deane. I suppose you think you're funny."

Sir Roger passed on, with a smile on his lips. As he passed the
reading-room Dora Bellairs came out.

"Well, Miss Dora, enjoyed your afternoon?"

"Oh, awfully--except that dreadful explosion."

"You must excuse a friend, you know. I'm awfully glad it's all come
right in the end."

"You--you're very kind, Sir Roger. It's--it's--there's nothing quite
settled yet."

"Oh, of course not, but still----! Well, I heard all about it and I
think he's worthy of you. I can't say more. He seems a capital fellow."

"Yes, isn't he? I----"

"Yes?"

"Oh, I'm very, very, _very_ happy," and, after making this declaration
in a shaky voice, she fairly ran away down the passage. Deane watched
her as she went.

"Maud's right," said he. "She always is. There's nothing for it but
dynamite. I wonder where it's to be got?"

General Bellairs clapped him on the shoulders.

"Inclined for a turn, Deane? I'm going to see an old servant of
mine--Painter's his name. He married my poor wife's French maid, and
set up as a restaurant-keeper in the Palais-Royal. I always look him up
when I come to Paris."

"I'm your man," answered Deane, and they set out for Mr. Painter's
establishment. It proved to be a neat little place, neither of the very
cheap nor of the very sumptuous class, and the General was soon
promising to bring the whole party to dejeuner there. Painter was
profuse in thanks and called Madame to thank the General. The General
at once entered into conversation with the trim little woman.

"Nice place yours, Painter," observed Deane.

"Pleased to hear you say so, Sir Roger."

"Very nice. Ah--er--heard of the explosion?"

"Yes, Sir Roger. Abominable thing, sir. These Socialists----"

"Quite so. Never had one here, I suppose?"

"No, sir. We're pretty well looked after in here."

"Like one?" asked Deane.

"Beg pardon, sir. Ha-ha. No, sir."

"Because I want o